


Floret

by OrionLady



Series: Lament for the Everyman [2]
Category: Annie (2014)
Genre: Birthday, Friendship, Gen, Terminal Illnesses, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionLady/pseuds/OrionLady
Summary: Colleen Hannigan kept it a secret, all this time. She didn't tell him - she didn't tellanyone.Will is still going to make sure it's the best birthday she's ever had.





	Floret

The order of spoons came too late.

William Stacks felt blots of sweat collect on his temples. He hung up the phone just as Grace entered. His lips floundered for a minute. She clasped her hands at the waist. Though the woman stood not eight feet away, he’d never felt more out to sea.

Why hadn’t she _told_ anyone?

“Grace?”

His assistant straightened with a sharp inhalation. “Yes, sir?”

“Have my car brought to the parking garage.”

Grace’s lips mushed together in tandem with her brows. “And where shall I tell Nash you’re heading?”

The spoons had come too late for the party. He’d ordered silver ones from Austria, just for birthday celebrations.

“Sir?”

Stacks shook himself. “The hospital. I’m going to the hospital.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Perhaps I should accompany—”

“I’m fine, Grace. And I’m going.” He left the office. A rigid masque slid over something broken in his eyes. “Alone.”

* * *

The receptionist did a double take over the nose of her counter. Will pumped a wad of sanitizer into his palm to fill the silence. The liquid dried his damp hands.

He wasn’t nervous. Billionaires didn’t get _nerves_.

“The hospital called me about an hour ago,” he repeatedly slowly.

“Right. You were listed as secondary consent.”

That zapped him. Will started and placed a hand on the counter. “You’re sure?”

The woman nodded, checking her screen. “Someone has to be present for surgery, in case anything goes wrong or she’s unable to sign for care. It says right here in her writing: ‘_William Stacks, beneficiary and substitute consent_.’”

Was the world being shaken like a snow globe? The woman’s polished lips parted in a gasp and waiting room lurched. Where was the ringing coming from?

“Sir? Sir! Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. That’s it.”

Someone had wrestled Will into a chair and a male nurse had two fingers under his jaw. The latex thumped against Will’s skin, much too fast. The nurse checked his watch and ‘hmmed.’

“He’s fine,” said the man. “Just shocked. Perhaps a bit dehydrated.”

“Surgery?” Will panted.

The receptionist knelt before him. Her eyes pinched. “There’s just one catch.”

He turned to her.

“She refuses to have the lump removed. Or to have any procedures.”

“Where is she now?” Will asked. “I need to see her.”

“Mr. Stacks, I don’t think—”

“Please. I need to see her.”

The receptionist shared a long look with someone behind his chair.

The nurse sighed. “Alright. But only for a few minutes.”

* * *

She stood by the window. The whole far wall was a massive pane of glass, a sweep of the Manhattan skyline. Her wiry frame stood as a toothpick against the living mural. Arms folded, she had her back to the door.

Will stood there for a long moment, absorbing the toned angles of her shoulders where they peeked out of a tank top. The cotton folds of her skirt got lost in the shadows of the wall register. The effect was only amplified by a burst of sun slicing in through granite clouds.

She stood motionless.

If Will didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it an ordinary day. No medical equipment was wrapped around the bare arms. He assumed there was at least a plastic medical bracelet. With her wrists out of sight, he couldn’t confirm this.

A rush of concern raised hairs on his neck.

“Why?” Will whispered.

_Why didn’t you tell me?_

He received no reply but for the hum of a light over the bed. The sheets looked pristine. Unslept in.

“How long?” he tried again. “I mean…how long have you known? When did you get the news?”

Her head bowed. Shadows accented the rippled line of her ribs. She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford.

He clenched a fist. “Colleen.” It came out little stronger than a breath. She still sagged. Some emotion melted the iron line of her back.

“Colleen, please.”

“The treatments won’t fix anything,” Colleen said, as if they were arguing over a crossword puzzle. Bile pushed up Will’s esophagus.

“This is why you’ve pushed Lou away. You haven’t told him.”

She nodded. Golden hoops bounced against her thinning hair.

“Why?” he demanded. “This could extend your time!”

“And stall the inevitable?”

He thought of the spoons for her birthday celebration on Saturday and his fury swelled. His nose stung. “Do you value your life so little?”

Colleen whirled. Her arms still clutched around her torso.

“I value my life enough to end it with dignity. Allow me my choice. It’s all I have left.”

“No.” Will finally made it several shaky steps past the doorway. “You stupid, arrogant woman!”

She stared at him.

Then he swallowed. His throat bobbed with his hand, reaching for the flowers on the shoulder of Colleen’s blouse. Gooseflesh rose along the length of her arm.

“You stunning woman—you have us.” Will smiled, though it didn’t match his eyes. “The…the spoons came today, those silver ones with, you know, elephant heads carved into the handles. I know it’s still over two months away, but you wanted them and…”

She turned. Will held out his hand but let it fall.

“I don’t know if I’ll last that long,” Colleen whispered.

Will put two fingers to the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. He did the mental math. Less than sixty-two days.

Sixty-two days to laugh and cry and breathe.

And then something hardened inside his spirit, a knight’s gleaming plates over the broken, soft inside. He snapped his lapels. The shaking in his hands stilled with the familiar motion of buttoning his coat.

Colleen faced him at the sound. Her eyes never left his face, even when he dipped into a shallow bow.

“Then we’ll celebrate it earlier. Saturday.”

“Saturday?” She started. “That’s only three days to prepare!”

He smiled, chin up. “And it will be spectacular, fit for a queen.”

Will knew money. The ground felt solid again. He had purpose and a direction, a recourse of action to dull the thoughts that bred in stillness. He rocked from one foot to the other.

Colleen’s lips twitched upwards for the first time—not quite a smile, but lighting the shadows around her eyes. “What will the neighbors say? I don’t even have a date for this soiree.”

Will moved closer and could feel her breath on his cheek. A thrill raced down his spine. Her lips were like perfect flower petals to match those on her dress.

This time, she took his hand.

* * *

Blue and red lights flashed over the darkened office towers on either side of the street. Cars honked and passengers craned their heads out of rear windows to catch a glimpse of the milieu ahead.

Street lamps had just flickered on when Officer Darrin jogged over to a nearby squad car.

He straightened his hat after tapping on the window. It rolled down. “What is this, chief? The whole upper East Side is congested!”

The officer, a heavy-set Italian, got out of the car and leaned on the hood. He chuckled. “We’ve got road blocks set up along Madison.”

“Another movie premier?”

“Naw,” said the chief. “Stacks.”

“The billionaire?”

“You got it. Huge guest list for someone’s birthday.”

The two NYPD were silent, watching a parade of sleek sedans and convertibles. Even children milled about the sidewalks in cupcake dresses and satin gloves.

“That must be some guest of honour,” the first officer muttered. “This will back traffic for hours.”

The chief laughed. “Leave it to Stacks!”

* * *

In the end, Will Stacks signed for two: elephants were not just a theme for the spoons. Two of the live animals swayed throughout the fairy-light-lit ballroom. elephants sprayed rose-scented water on the dancers.

Ziggurats of lemon squares—Colleen’s favourite—topped with cinnamon dusted foam sat in concert with platters of gelato and whorls of creamy mousse.

Over it all hung banners of irises and a halo of lilies over the drinks tables, tiger-striped orange against the backdrop of blues and ivory.

Will never once looked at a receipt.

The celebrations didn’t officially starts until eight, but guests entered the unearthly splendor of the hall before the clock struck seven thirty. A live swing band, flown in from New Orleans, gyrated on a raised partition at the front of the room. Behind it, a giant sign declared:

_Best Wishes, Colleen!_

Will nodded. He spied a beaded black dress and waved to its owner. Grace smiled, excusing herself from the mayor.

“Excellent work on the decorations,” said Will.

Grace tottered back and forth in the stilettos, a feat worthy of any stilt walker, before planting herself beside Will.

“You’re always welcome, Will. But why now?” Grace licked her lips. “Surely the rush orders weren’t necessary, what with her birthday being several months away.”

Will wiped an imaginary piece of lint from his lapel. He kept his eyes there. “Well, you know. The spoons had already come and I’ll never say no to a party.”

Grace opened her mouth and then started again. “Of course…sir.”

He looked up. “Grace?”

“No, I understand.” She bowed her head, spine going taught. “When you have to drop everything for a friend, I’ll remember to come to you.”

“That’s not what this is about, Grace.”

The woman waved him off. “I’m sure, Will.”

“Grace—”

“An elephant? You got real live elephants for tonight and you didn’t _tell _me?”

Will crouched in time to catch an armful of Annie, her face flushed and smile blinding. A new white frock sat over her glittery leggings.

“Careful where you’re flashing those teeth, girl,” Will said. “Gotta get a permit for those floodlights.”

His daughter threw her head back and laughed. Somewhere in the hopping noise and Annie’s wild pulse under his fingertips, Will found his center.

“I don’t know why you haven’t thrown a big bash like this for Miss Hannigan every year,” said Annie, “but I love it.”

“I don’t know why either,” came Grace’s low tone. She had moved further away. Will didn’t have the heart to close the distance.

“It’s…sometimes in a person’s life…” Will floundered.

And then Colleen sashayed through a double-door entrance, a ruby dress settled over her curves, and Will suddenly couldn’t form any words.

Three hundred guests burst into thunderous applause, but Will only had eyes for her. Colleen didn’t stop to schmooze, making a beeline for the girls and tugging Annie and Tessie and Mia and Bella and even Pepper into a tight embrace.

Will flicked off a tear with his thumb.

Colleen entertained guests that approached her with a loud laugh and a smile to rival Annie’s. Will stared until something in his chest began to churn.

“The drink table it is,” he muttered, pouring a bourbon.

Food had no appeal to him and it obviously didn’t for Colleen. Her collar bone and upper ribs were a strange cage that caught ghastly shadows. Her face was pasty.

A gift pile beside the door continued to grow throughout the night. Colleen never dropped the radiant face. She even found time for an elephant ride.

On one of his return trips to the bar, Will tripped over a small shoe. He lifted the drinks table cloth and smiled at a sleeping Annie and Tessie nestled in Pepper’s arms.

“I think it’s time we went home,” said Pepper.

Will nodded. “I’ll get Nash.”

Pepper stood and hefted Tessie in her arms. Will followed the girls out to the car.

Before leaving, Pepper cast a solemn glance back at Miss Hannigan. Her eyes shone when they landed on Will.

Will stared at the older girl with a sudden feeling of dread, a stone weighing him under the waves. Where would Pepper and Isabella and Mia and Tessie go? Maybe it was time for he and Grace to adopt a few more…

“You’ll take good care of her?” Pepper asked. Her voice broke. “You won’t let her…”

“I will.” He swallowed. “I always will.”

And Will was left nodding, standing alone and supine on a dusty curb. He put his hand in his pocket for something to do. It closed around a clammy plastic ring Annie had won on Coney Island.

Will straightened. He retreated inside for a shot glass. The band had started to wind down into a slower set. Couples danced around a purple-lit floor.

“I hope you’re not driving.”

Colleen stood with her arms folded, smile still in place. Her eyes were tired, though, wearier than several hours ago when she’d entered. Still, he’d never seen her so content. She pointed to the scotch in his hand.

“Oh.” He set it down. “No. Nash is. Well, he took the girls home but he’ll be…” Will watched Colleen’s eyes narrow into something fond. “Be…back.”

“Good.”

A white fur sat around her shoulders and she clutched it closer, despite the heat of the ballroom. To Will she looked stunning—a pin-up girl from the forties.

“Yes, it’s very…”

“What?” Colleen asked.

“You look good,” said Will.

Colleen, for some reason Will couldn’t fathom, began to laugh.

“Care for a dance, my good man?” she held out a hand. “Just one for the birthday girl?”

Will did a twirl in his polished shoes. “They’re playing my song.”

In fact, Will had no idea what the name of the three-beat jazz number was, but he slipped an arm around Colleen’s too thin waist and smiled as the warmth of her hand met his shoulder. Their gangly dance faltered at first. Soon Will found a rhythm. She set her chin on his shoulder.

Will closed his eyes. He imagined they were at a restaurant, spinning in slow ellipses that left him dizzy.

“Can we pretend,” he said. “That I had gotten a chance to…”

Colleen drew back so he could see her knit brow. “Maybe in a different lifetime, a different set of choices.”

Squeezing his hand, Colleen motioned her head towards seats along the wall. Grace sat with a cold mug of tea. Stress lines had appeared around her cheeks.

“See her?”

Will nodded.

“She is your future,” said Colleen.

But he sensed the way Colleen leaned in to him. The overlapping heartbeat when her lips hovered near his ear. Some of the ermine tickled his neck.

Her murmur was breathy against his ear. “I’ve always…”

She couldn’t finish.

“Me too,” said Will. “And I think a part of me will never stop.”

His hand went from her hip to her hair. He smoothed the blond tresses. The song transitioned into something minor. He held up his arm. Colleen weaved under it. Her dress fanned his legs.

Colleen winked. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m sorry you don’t know all the people,” Will said. “They’re my friends but I just thought it might be nice.”

“_You _know them,” said Colleen. “That’s enough for me.”

Will wondered that he didn’t try to put more space between his chest and hers, that he relished the peach smell of her perfume and the low hum of her singing along with the band.

He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles. “Maybe next time we can split a bottle of champagne. Make it official.”

She gasped. “I’ve always thought a honeymoon in Greece would be amazing.”

“With lights and dinner on the canal?”

“We could do one of those donkey rides.” Colleen shrugged. “Or a camel ride. I’m not picky.”

“I’ve always wanted to try parasailing.”

Colleen laughed so that even her teeth were visible. “I can’t picture you in anything but a business suit. How about a bike tour?”

“You got it.”

He could feel her diaphragm contract in the space between their heartbeats. The woman’s bony shoulders caught lavender light.

She pulled him into a loose hug. “Thank you, Will.”

“I would say you’re welcome, but I wish this…this wasn’t the last…”

“Don’t.” Colleen’s smile dropped. “Don’t play that game.”

At some point, Will’s feet had gone numb. With the ending of the set came applause.

He stumbled and Colleen caught him around the biceps. He leaned into her grip as she kissed him. Not fully around the mouth—but her floret painted the corner of his lips.

Though Will couldn’t hear over the noise now, he read the words that Colleen spoke around a cough.

He took her hand. “I love you too, Col—”

“This one goes out to the birthday girl herself! Hit it, boys!”

Cheers erupted when the band struck up a hopping version of “Rock Around the Clock.”

Will clapped along with the audience. He too followed the spotlight and he too frowned when he couldn’t find Colleen.

_She let go of my hand. _

Everyone else in the room shrugged and went back to jiving on the dance floor. Someone congratulated Will on his work with foster children. Will thanked the donor but couldn’t remember the words his tongue formed.

Sweat broke out along his neck. The billionaire marched to the back of the hall, his eyes wide and feet straining to beat Time at its own game.

Will felt cold where her hands had rested.

He slammed the front doors open, panting like a marathon winner, and emerged into the cool night air.

_She let go of my hand._

* * *

They found her, three hours later, behind a bench in Central Park. She wore a smile, eyes on the fireworks that spelled out her name in cherry flashes.

The coroner laid a blanket over her body. Lou wept and punched a tree, breaking three of his fingers. Before he left, he threw a small green cube on the pavement. Will realized it was a velvet ring box.

He could only stand there, useless and gaping, as they loaded Colleen’s ruby form into the ambulance, its lights and siren turned off. He felt he’d stopped breathing.

“She lied to me.”

“Will?” Grace took his arm.

“She told me two months to live but she didn’t have that much time…”

Grace nodded.

“I would give all the money I own if it would bring her back,” said Will.

“I know.”

They watched the vehicle drive away. Music continued to float from the hotel down the street. The guests still had no idea.

_Why didn’t she tell me?_

“She loved you,” Grace whispered.

Will looked up. There was no venom in Grace’s eyes, only a calm sort of sorrow. Her heels were stained with dew and pieces of grass.

She shivered and squeezed his arm. “You have an enormous heart, Will Stacks. Never feel guilty for that.”

* * *

Three weeks passed and the funeral had ended. Cards were sent and tears were shed. Children were relocated to make a chaotic, jubilant family of seven. Grass had even begun to grow on the ground before a salmon-colored headstone.

The sun shone from behind a cloud in time to glisten off a well-dressed figure who stopped before the grave, a hailstorm and completely still all at once. He set down two single-stem tiger lilies before walking away.

A plastic ring held the two flowers together.

**Author's Note:**

> Written March 2015. I never knew reading and editing old, trash fire stories could be this painful.


End file.
